The Dark
by cake-error
Summary: Dark. The dark. Darkness. Dark dark dark he hated the dark.    RusAme hurt/comfort drabble


Finally finished this! m(_ _)m This seriously took so long to write, even though it's so short. Gah...

* * *

Dark.

The dark.

Darkness.

Dark dark _dark_ _he hated the dark_.

It was like a blank canvas, perfect for the grotesque fantasies of his imagination to conjure themselves onto. A stage darkened for the dramatic entrance of the star of the show - _fear_.

The little shadows crept along in the corners, mirrored by the thoughts that prowled ever restlessly around his mind. A simple closing of a door, a gentle breeze - all loud as gunshots and the splatter of blood to the muddy ground. The same muddy ground where he had knelt crying-

_(a pale hand, clutching a face streaming with tears-his hand twitched and he could have sworn the gun felt only a few inches out of reach almost he could take it and finish it and make those green eyes never accuse him again)_

_(skin burning it looked so much like his own now there are pained eyes like his boring into his soul the burns are pale white against angry red skin and strands of blond hair singed hanging limply he should just finish now and put him out of his misery)_

_(violent violet eyes watching him balefully as he cocked the gun and his finger slipped just a fraction of an inch more, just a bit and it'd be finished soon enough he could leave him here to bleed just forget him forget how it used to be before this)_

_(millions of little voices screaming in his head blood pounding frantically through his ears he couldn't see there was only smoke and fire something cracked and he felt something break inside of him so many things finished all in one stroke just clean and gone)_

It got difficult to breathe, like something had settled on his chest and refused to move. Like an iron weight was pressing against his heart, stilling each beat. He took a deep breath, feeling his rib cage expand, and let it out slowly.

_…he hated the dark._

The gentle sounds of someone's slow breathing filled his ears and he gritted his teeth together, resisting the urge to cut off the rhythmic rising and falling.

It was the dark, the oppressive dimness that smothered any logical thought. Yes, that was it. Nothing else.

His hand twitched of its own will and he made an effort to stop it from curling around someone's neck.

A blue eye cracked open, shining in the diffuse light from the rain-streaked window, and stared blankly at the glinting red numbers on the digital clock inches from his head.

_1:49_

He continued to watch the streams of water run down the foggy glass, rain drumming against the panes like fingers tapping out a bored rhythm. The curtains did little to block the light from the ever racing world outside and swung disconsolately in the gentle current of air emanating from the vent beneath it. Normal. Nothing was there. Nothing, nothing, nothing, just breathe again and try to forget how those purple eyes looked then, the same purple eyes surely staring at him now-

He looked again.

_1:50_

Sitting up abruptly, he let the heavy blankets fall off his bare shoulders and pool around his waist. The gentle pitter-patter lulled his semi-conscious mind back towards the abyss of dreamless sleep, coaxing frazzled axons to slow the firing of thoughts back and forth between neurons.

_(a pale, mottled, sickly-looking hand reaching out from under the burning wreckage of once-proud cities he recoiled and instantly regretted not helping the poor creature before it was finished and ceased to exist bile rose in his throat and he stumbled backwards)_

A sudden gasp burst from him, chest trembling with nervous energy as he fought the urge to choke and retch. Disgusting, sickening, horrible, that's what it all was, what he was.

_…he hated the dark-_

A warm arm settled somewhere on his hips, long fingers tiredly tracing the angular bones found there. He turned around to see Ivan blinking sleepily, a question in his eyes too tired to pass through sleepy lips. _What's wrong?_ It was a much better question than _Is there something wrong?_ That was redundant. There was always something wrong, always something to regret and wish he had changed…

"Nightmares." He whispered softly, and it was true, mostly. They were living nightmares, very awake and very much prowling the deep, dank corners of his mind. Not even needing the sanctuary of the backs of his eyelids, constantly gnawing at him, little stab by stab.

Long fingers tangled into his hair, combing the dark blond locks soothingly and pulling him backwards into a warm embrace. "Ah…I see." _Do you? Do you really see? Do you see them, crawling there in the corner, ghosts of your past? Do you see the things I see?_

"It's part of being human. We remember. Just…try to forget…" Just to forget the memories burned into his flesh, just to slip out of this skin and feel _numb_, he'd give anything, almost anything he had.

Lips whispered sweet nothings and kissed softly at the nape of his neck, and he shuddered into their touch, wanting desperately to disappear. He leaned backwards, feeling Ivan move with him and gently lean back into the mattress, dragging the blankets back up to cover them both. Letting his body relax, he let him pull him into a protective hold, but didn't close his eyes until the breathing tickling his ear had slowed once more.

His voice rang out suddenly in the utter silence. "It's not the remembering that makes you old. It's the learning how to learn from it and forget the pain." Ivan tightened his hold around his waist and did not protest when he twisted in his embrace to face him and wrap his own arms around him.

A shaky smile crept its way onto his face as he shut his eyes one last time. "Thank you."

* * *

So, how d'you like my attempt at angst/horror/poetic-ness/sadness in general?

I think this is the first time I used hurt/comfort as a genre on here...kinda sad if you think about it...


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